


Kiss Me A Lot

by Das_verlorene_Kind



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: (no surprise there), Anal Sex, Be My Peterick Valentine 2020, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Praise Kink, They're Married and Happy, just silly boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22725478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_verlorene_Kind/pseuds/Das_verlorene_Kind
Summary: “Uhm,” Pete says, kind of uncertain and unprepared for this. It’s not that Patrick never gives him any compliments, it’s just that these  compliments and change in mood came so out of nowhere. “Did I do  something wrong? Did you do something wrong?”Patrick smiles at him. Patrick grins  at him, devilish and seductively. “No. You’ve been nothing but a good boy,” he says in a low voice, one seldom heard outside the bedroom. His  thumb is tracing over Pete’s skin, a small, feather-light touch that  makes Pete bite his lip. “Such a good boy, the very best one. So don’t worry, and just consider it a preview for tomorrow...”“Uhm,”  Pete says again, then decides to say nothing, and instead lean into the kiss that Patrick presses to his lips, dark and dirty and unexpected, but more than welcome nonetheless. Pete thinks he very much enjoys this  preview – he definitely wants more of this.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62
Collections: Be My Peterick Valentine 2020





	Kiss Me A Lot

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my entry for the Valentine's Day challenge 2020~
> 
> I keep using this AU for oneshots (last time we say them was Xmas 2019) - basically, the band happened and everything, but they're also happily married, have three kids, two dogs, and, as the tags say, are just two silly boys still in love. 
> 
> Thanks to Snitches for beta reading, and to the lovely people in the discord chat for the support!
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s February 13th.

Which means tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, which is only Pete’s favorite holiday. 

(Almost every holiday is Pete’s favorite. Patrick argues that renders the point of having a favorite holiday moot, but Pete doesn’t care.)

While Pete is usually the planner for Valentine’s Day, this year, Patrick has volunteered to organize a little romantic getaway. Meaning a night at a nice hotel while Grandma Wentz watches the kids, but hey, still counts. Patrick has stayed rather tight-lipped about everything else, and Pete is curious about what his husband has come up with. Not that he doesn’t trust Patrick, but hey. It’s only Pete’s favorite holiday.

For now, he and David are on their way home from tennis practice. David looks excited and happy, pleased with today’s efforts and successes, and Pete enjoys getting to be a tennis geek with his son. It’s nice to share this hobby with at least _one_ person in his family. They stop to grab dinner, before finally heading back.

“We’re home!” Pete shouts once they enter the house, as if anyone had missed that fact.

Wolf has grown up to be a good, if perhaps a bit exhausting little (well, okay, rather big) Goberian who can usually follow most commands and act well-behaved, save for when someone rings the doorbell. Wolf can’t keep quiet, and Sheep, their Collie, while otherwise being a well-mannered dog too, always supports Wolf’s barks and demands to know who’s intruding in their house. The dogs know not to run up to strangers, but when family members return to their territory, both Wolf and Sheep have to come and greet them appropriately, with the same enthusiasm no matter if said family member has been gone for 5 minutes or 5 days. Pete tells himself they could do a lot worse given that Wolf was a stray when they adopted him. And, perhaps, Pete doesn’t quite mind his personal welcoming committee.

Speaking of, his husband appears as well. “Good thing you’re home. Everyone is hungry,” Patrick greets them as he hugs David, then pecks a kiss to Pete’s cheek. David throws the gym bag into the corner (and picks it up again with a self-pitying sigh after his parents both roundly and in unison tell him to get it to the laundry room), and goes to get his siblings.

“Good thing you’re home,” Patrick repeats, this time more softly, with a lot of affection in his voice. He reaches out to grab Pete’s wrist, a light touch, but there’s something in it that instinctively makes Pete turn to look at Patrick, makes him wonder if this is still part of an ordinary conversation. “I missed my beautiful, wonderful husband. Look at you, all adorable, and being such a good dad...”

“Uhm,” Pete says, kind of uncertain and unprepared for this. It’s not that Patrick never gives him any compliments, it’s just that these compliments and change in mood came so out of nowhere. “Did I do something wrong? Did _you_ do something wrong?”

Patrick smiles at him. Patrick _grins_ at him, devilish and seductively. “No. You’ve been nothing but a good boy,” he says in a low voice, one seldom heard outside the bedroom. His thumb is tracing over Pete’s skin, a small, feather-light touch that makes Pete bite his lip. “ _Such_ a good boy, the very best one. So don’t worry, and just consider it a preview for tomorrow...”

“Uhm,” Pete says again, then decides to say nothing, and instead lean into the kiss that Patrick presses to his lips, dark and dirty and unexpected, but more than welcome nonetheless. Pete thinks he very much enjoys this preview – he definitely wants more of this.

When they part, Patrick smiles at him. Now, all cute and sweet, making him look utterly innocent, with his dorky glasses and the dad cardigan with its too long sleeves. Pete _so_ wants to ask for another preview, but the moment has passed, and he can hear the annoyed voices of three hungry children.

“Let’s go eat, hm?” Patrick takes one of the paper bags, and Pete nods, dumbfounded, before following him to the living room.

Over dinner, Lilly and Marley tell everyone about their Valentine’s Day preparations, about arts and crafts and the Valentine’s Day cards they made. Pete smiles to himself as he listens, not without a hint of melancholia over childhood innocence; the kids all grow up so fast, and they won’t craft cute little glitter cards for their friends in class forever.

“Why can’t we come with you tomorrow?” Marley asks with big eyes and genuine sadness in his voice.

“Yeah, why can’t we come with you?” Lilly echoes her little brother, though she has her arms crossed over her chest and sounds more defiant than Marley. Combined with her grumpy glare, she looks and acts adorably like Patrick, even more so when Pete chuckles and pats her head, which earns him another glare.

“Because they don’t want us there, duh.” David rolls his eyes, like that should be obvious to his little siblings. “They just want to have s-”

“Some privacy,” Patrick interrupts him hurriedly. “We’d like some privacy, indeed.”

“Yes, your dad and I want some alone-time,” Pete explains, trying to be diplomatic. “Parents need that, too.”

David just rolls his eyes again and makes a face, like most teenagers would when they think of their parents being anything else but parents.

“We won’t be gone for long,” Pete assures Marley, who’s still looking at him with those big, sad eyes. “Grandma is coming over, and she will take good care of you. And before you know it, dad and I will be back. And next weekend, we’ll dosomething fun together, I promise!”

That shifts the topic of the discussion to what said promised fun should be, with their three excited kids making all sorts of suggestions ranging from realistic to entirely unreasonable, with the only consensus being that pizza should definitely be involved.

It’s been a long day, and once they’re in bed, Pete is about as tired as Patrick. He rests his head on Patrick’s chest, cuddles up to him, and usually, that would be it. Except Pete still has a little request.

“Hey,” Pete whispers, and looks at Patrick with his most innocent expression (which, Pete knows, isn’t too convincing – he has many talents, but acting isn’t one of them). “Can I get another preview for tomorrow?”

Patrick doesn’t say anything as he traces over Pete’s back, up to his shoulders, neck, then runs a hand through Pete’s hair. “Another preview, hm?”

“Pretty please?” Pete pouts, and Patrick chuckles.

“You won’t need to beg, dear. You won’t need to do anything. You’ll just need to let me spoil you a little...” With that, Patrick slides his hand back down, over Pete’s chest, belly, and Pete hurries to get up and straddle Patrick’s lap, so Patrick has better access to where Pete wants that hand – between his legs.

“You always make such a pretty sight...” Patrick cups Pete’s dick, smiling when Pete lets out a pleased little moan as he arches into the touch. “You also make the most beautiful sounds,” Patrick whispers softly, and Pete moans again, half for show, half because Patrick’s hand feels so nice. Soon enough, Pete can feel his growing erection straining against the fabric of his underwear, desperate for more skin contact.

Pete is about to disregard what Patrick said and try another “pretty please?”, but Patrick already tugs at the waistband of Pete’s briefs. “Told you, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll give you anything you want,” Patrick says, then pulls down Pete’s underwear, wraps his fingers around Pete’s cock.

Pete is the slightest bit irritated. This is not how they usually play it, and for a brief moment he feels confused and worried, wonders if he can accept this without the feeling of having done anything to earn it. But Patrick told him that he’s going to get spoiled, and besides, it’s just a little preview, some fun, and Patrick’s hand stroking his cock feels too good to keep worrying. Pete decides to just enjoy it, the way Patrick touches him, so familiar, safe, and so, so good; the way Patrick kisses him, soft and adoring and like even after all these years, he can’t ever get enough of it; the way Patrick whispers “I love you, I love you so fucking much” as he strokes Pete through his orgasm.

With a pleased sigh, Pete cuddles up to Patrick again, and slides his hand down to Patrick’s own hard-on, determined to give back. Patrick moans in appreciation, whispers “ah, this feels so good, keep going” and another “I love you so much” as Pete gets him off.

“Mmm, I’m so lucky to have you,” Patrick says afterwards as he pulls Pete closer, and presses another kiss to Pete’s lips.

“What’s with all the compliments?” Pete asks, still somewhat confused. “I haven’t even done anything special.”

“You don’t need to do anything special for me to love and appreciate you.” Patrick shakes his head when he notices that Pete wants to argue that. “No disagreeing with me on that allowed.”

Pete pouts, mostly for show, and Patrick chuckles. “Preview over,” he says with a yawn, chuckles again when Pete leans in for one last good-night kiss. He turns on his side, and Patrick spoons him.

“I love you, too,” Pete whispers sleepily.

“I know,” Patrick whispers back, and Pete can hear the fond smile in his voice. “I promise, tomorrow is going to be fun.”

  
  


After a regular hectic Friday, the kids are all picked up from school, the house cleaned appropriately for grandma’s visit (even though Pete’s mom will surely find something to scold them for), and Pete is getting dressed to go out.

Patrick is already all dressed up and only waiting for Pete now, who runs a hand through his hair as he looks into the mirror. “You look pretty,” Patrick assures him in a way that sounds genuine and not just to get Pete to stop moping and changing his outfit for the third time.

Pete narrows his eyes at his reflection, runs a hand through his hair again. “You think so?”

“You always look amazing, baby.” Patrick gets up, walks over to Pete, slings an arm around his waist, pecks a kiss to Pete’s cheek.

Pete grins, before he turns his head to kiss Patrick as well. “So do you,” Pete says, and while Patrick blushes a little, he accepts the compliment with a mumbled, but honest “thanks”. It’s taken Pete a few years to get him there, to get Patrick to accept his affections especially when it comes to Patrick’s looks, and well, it might be a work in progress, but one Pete won’t ever grow tired of. He takes Patrick’s hand, and they get downstairs to say goodbye to Dale and the kids. While Patrick makes the kids promise to behave, Pete’s mom straightens Pete’s tie, tousles his hair, assures him everything will be fine and that she will keep them updated. They hug and kiss the kids goodbye, which also comes with a lot of noise from both the kids and the dogs, and the demand from Marley to also bid several of his favorite stuffed animals goodbye. Even David allows his dads to both hug him and give him a kiss goodbye, a rare request from their son that makes both Pete and Patrick smile as they do so.

Finally, Pete and Patrick make it out of the door, and into the car. First stop is the restaurant, which, much to Pete’s delight, is Valentine’s Day themed. It’s tacky and silly, Pete knows it, he just can’t help himself. It’s not full-on glitter and rose-petal confetti and balloons, Pete knows that Patrick wouldn’t like that and it’s still his day, too, but it’s a nice compromise. They even split a heart-shaped dessert, and if Pete allows himself to openly stare at Patrick’s mouth as he licks off some strawberry sauce from his spoon, well. He considers it another preview.

Their hotel room is elegant, luxurious, and comfortable. Pete hums to himself as he sits on the bed, runs a hand over the soft fabric. Patrick has placed the lube (Pete’s favorite brand – he’s grown picky over the years) on the nightstand already. Although Pete is eager to undress, he has only shrugged off his jacket, and is waiting for whatever Patrick has planned to do now. Pete is buzzing with pent-up energy and excitement, and he knows Patrick knows, and he knows that most of the times when they get to play like this, Patrick would take full advantage of that and make Pete wait just a little longer.

Not today; Patrick is quick to motion Pete to stand up, then takes him into his arms, mumbling sweet nothings as he trails kisses from Pete’s throat up to his lips.

“What do I do?” Pete asks, half anxious, half excited – that’s usually the nice part about it, that Pete knows what to do, how to act, what to expect. But Patrick still hasn’t said anything. “Do you want me to undress myself? Or do you want to tie me up? Or handcuff me? Or maybe, you want me to shut up?”

“None of that, baby.” Patrick stops kissing him and straightens his back, his hands on Pete’s shoulder, his facial expression more serious now. Instinctively, Pete straightens his back as well. “No restrictions, you can touch me as much as you like, and you can talk all you want. But… You’re going to take a lot today.”

“Oh?” Pete blinks as he briefly wonders what Patrick could mean. They haven’t really used any of the bigger plugs recently. “Did you get me a new toy?”

Patrick shakes his head, grinning when he says: “No. You’re going to take a lot of _compliments_ today.”

Pete blinks again, waiting for an explanation if perhaps, compliments is a new euphemism he doesn’t know or a hip new sex toy brand name he isn’t aware of.

Instead, Patrick chuckles, and says: “C’mon, Pete. I thought you’d appreciate the lack of ambiguity.”

Pete furrows his brows. “So, literal compliments?”

“Yes. Compliments.” Patrick grins again, lowers his voice a little to add: “I know you love to be praised...”

“Sure...” Pete allows himself to grin back. That he may have a bit of a praise kink is nothing new. “I love compliments, but what do I have to do to _get_ them?”

“Nothing, my love.” Patrick cups Pete’s face in his hand. “You’ve done so much already – this is all about spoiling you.”

“Spoiling me,” Pete repeats softly as Patrick leans back in to kiss him again, his hands now fumbling with the buttons of Pete’s shirt.

“Yes. Spoiling my beautiful, wonderful, precious husband...” Patrick, now having undone the buttons on Pete’s shirt, hums in appreciation as he traces over well-known tattoos. “Look at you, gorgeous. I could never grow tired of this sight...”

The sincerity in his voice makes Pete smile as he shrugs off his shirt, lets Patrick take him into his arms and continue the kisses. He knows that when Patrick compliments him, especially during this, he means each and every word of it. No matter if anxiety or insecurity takes hold over Pete’s mood, Pete knows he can trust Patrick. Even if Pete doesn’t always see what Patrick sees – Patrick still sees it, and that gives Pete the courage to continue and believe that he will see it again, too.

Of course, Patrick has his own struggles with self-confidence as well, and Pete has never and will never grow tired of loving and supporting his much beloved golden boy. But while it’s usually easy for Pete to give, be it compliments or love or any other part of himself, it’s been difficult (and still is, sometimes) to accept anything in return.

No doubt noticing that Pete’s thoughts are drifting off, Patrick takes a step back, and takes Pete’s hands. “Look at me. Tell me what you want, baby,” Patrick orders in a low voice that makes Pete shiver.

Pete takes a moment to think. “I want you to keep kissing me. Kiss me, everywhere, please…”

“Such a good boy you are,” Patrick says with a little chuckle as he pecks a kiss to Pete’s forehead. “Always so good, and so thoughtful,” his lips trail down to meet Pete’s, “so polite and eager even when I told you I’d spoil you...”

The _please_ has rolled off Pete’s tongue without a second thought and unprompted by Patrick, and just as Pete wants to apologize, feels a spike of anxiety for already screwing up the rules, Patrick shuts him up with a kiss. “I told you, you can say anything you want,” Patrick reminds him in a firm, but gentle voice. “You don’t need to worry, Pete. You’re doing good.”

“But – but I’m not doing anything,” Pete can’t help but argue. “I want to be good for you, but _how?”_

Patrick takes a deep breath, then gently puts his hand under Pete’s chin, tilts his head up until Pete’s eyes meet his. “Pete. You don’t have to do anything special. That’s not what this is about. I just want to spoil you with all the compliments and kisses and whatever else your heart may want, and all you need to do is to lean back and enjoy.” Upon Pete’s frown, he adds: “You don’t need to worry – you’ve earned this already. Because you’re my wonderful, amazing husband whom I love very much.”

Pete feels how he blushes, more than he should, more than if Patrick had asked for anything dirty or debauched, and he doesn’t even know why.

Once more, Patrick’s gentle touch brings Pete’s attention back to the here and now. “We don’t have to do any of this,” Patrick says with a reassuring smile. “If you’re not comfortable with this, we can do something else.”

Pete pauses, takes a moment to think it over. Then, he concludes: “I'm comfortable. And I _do_ want my compliments.”

Patrick laughs, sweet and endearing, and kisses him. “You’ll get them,” he assures Pete, “and anything else you want. And you know what to say when you want to stop, right?”

Pete shrugs dismissively. “I know it, and I doubt I’ll need it today.”

“No. Say it,” Patrick demands, always the one to play it safe, the counterpart to Pete’s tiny itch for self-destruction.

“Hemmingway,” Pete says nonetheless, and Patrick nods, satisfied with the answer.

“There’s a good boy,” Patrick purrs, and Pete feels himself relaxing, hears himself sigh happily as Patrick finally continues to kiss his jawline, lips trailing over the curve of Pete’s throat, down to his chest; this time, the worries finally fade away, making room for pleasure. Pete likes to get lost in these moments, when it’s just Patrick and him, and nothing else matters.

Gently, Patrick motions him to lay down, and Pete stretches out on the bed, sends his husband a lascivious look as Patrick joins him in bed. “Mmm, all this beauty just for me,” Patrick hums, leans in to trail kisses from Pete’s throat to his collarbone, to caress Pete’s nipples with fingers, then his tongue.

Patrick works his way down until he fumbles with Pete’s pants before pushing them down, slowly, like he’s unwrapping a present. It’s nothing new, he’s seen Pete naked countless times in the past years, but the way Patrick looks at him, that it’s still something exciting to him, always makes Pete’s heart beat a little faster. He can feel Patrick’s tongue, the soft plush of his lips, all his kisses burning hot on Pete’s skin. He can feel Patrick’s mouth painting hickeys, Patrick’s blunt nails leaving a trail of red, an exquisite sharp contrast to the tender touches, from Pete’s tummy to the inside of his thighs. Pete shivers, bites back a moan as he thinks about how he will carry the memory of this evening with him for just a little longer – a bruise that matches Patrick’s fingerprints, a hickey to memorize his gorgeous mouth…

“I could kiss you forever,” Patrick whispers softly. He’s lost his pants at some point as well, his tie long gone, the first few buttons of his shirt hastily undone. “I could kiss you forever, but I’d also like to do a little more...”

“Oh, yes, please,” Pete hears himself say, and he arches his back to not so subtly hint what he wants Patrick to do.

“Please _what_ , Pete?” Patrick says in a low voice, his hands so tantalizingly close to Pete’s growing erection.

“Please suck me off?” Pete answers, a little unsure – it’s what he wants, he’s just not sure if it’s the direction Patrick wants to take this.

Patrick’s thumb traces over the sharp outlines of Pete’s hip bones, and he licks his lips in a way that makes Pete shiver with anticipation. “I can’t give you compliments if my mouth is occupied otherwise… But I did promise to spoil you, didn’t I.” Patrick shakes his head with a lenient smile that already makes it clear he’s not actually objecting. “I guess I’ll have to make up for it by making this extra-good for you.”

Pete wants to say, _yes please, oh my god_. “Your blowjobs are always extra-good,” he says instead, and although Patrick is usually fairly good at keeping his composure, he chuckles, blushes just a tiny bit at the compliment.

“You’re so cute,” Patrick whispers, the shadow of a smile on his pretty lips, “and here I was the one supposed to give you compliments...”

“I just like to give back,” Pete retorts, and it’s true. While he loves, loves to be spoiled, he also loves to spoil Patrick as well (as much as Patrick lets him, anyways).

Patrick just bites back another chuckle, then slides his hands down to Pete’s thighs, motioning him to part his legs. And fuck, there’s nothing Pete wants more than that. Patrick bows down, not to suck Pete’s dick, but taking his time instead; he doesn't talk as much, but each kiss on it’s own is a silent compliment, a gesture of awe, an expression of love and devotion that makes Pete shiver again.

The anticipation is growing just as much as Pete’s erection. When Patrick’s tongue finally finds his cock, licks a stripe over the shaft, Pete’s moan is embarrassingly loud as he arches his back again in search for more. Spoiling him or not, Patrick apparently still likes to tease a little, and Pete likes to play along – especially when he knows he will get what he wants.

“You have such a lovely dick,” Patrick whispers and fuck it, Pete is too vain to argue that, no matter what unflattering opinions the internet might have. Whatever else he wants to say vanishes the moment Patrick parts his lips, slowly starts to take Pete in.

Fuck, Pete will never ever grow tired of Patrick’s sinfully pretty mouth – the shape of his lips, the curve of his smile, the clever tongue that knows just how to drive Pete mad with pleasure. Pete gasps as he bites back another moan, only to whine when Patrick all too soon withdraws his mouth.

“I said that you can talk,” Patrick growls, lips spit-wet and his blue eyes fixed on Pete, commanding his attention. “You can talk, Pete, and I want to hear you. I want you to be _loud_ for me.”

“Patrick, _fuck_ ,” is all Pete can say back as he tries to catch his breath, tries to at least pretend to live up to his role as the poet and form some semi-coherent sentences. “I’ll be loud – I’ll be good. I’ll fucking sing your praise for the whole world to hear, you know me...”

Patrick seems more than satisfied with that, because he doesn’t give any further instructions, simply goes back to suck Pete’s cock, this time, without any further teasing. After all these years, Patrick knows exactly what Pete likes and how to give it to him, and Pete knows exactly what to give back. He’s loud, moaning and writhing, stammering half-obscene and semi-sweet sentences about Patrick’s mouth, glad that they’re all alone in their hotel room. (Not that Pete doesn’t enjoy a bit of voyeurism – he’s not kidding; he’d sing praises about Patrick’s lips and tongue to the whole world, he’d go down on his knees in front of millions if he had to, and he won’t ever grow tired of proclaiming his love for Patrick to everyone out there listening.)

Meanwhile, Patrick rewards Pete’s efforts with nothing short of an amazing blowjob, tongue pressing against the shaft, throat working around Pete’s dick, a treat Pete knows he can only sparsely enjoy given how much of an asset Patrick’s voice is to them. And oh, Pete is going to enjoy the hell out of it. He groans and whines and he thinks he’s babbling, all while Patrick works his dick, fucking _hums_ like he’s singing back Pete’s praise to please him and ah, Pete can’t resist.

“I’m so close,” he cries out, “Patrick, fuck, I’m…!”

Patrick withdraws his mouth, licks over his spit-wet, swollen lips. “You’re going to come for me,” he growls, voice rugged and rough which, damn, only makes Pete shiver. “I’m gonna put my mouth back on your dick, and I won’t stop until I’ve swallowed every last drop of you.”

Pete thinks it’s best not to try to give a smart answer. When Patrick’s lips meet his dick again, Pete doesn’t bother thinking anymore. All that matters is Patrick’s mouth, Patrick’s tongue, Patrick’s touch, Patrick, _Patrick_ –

Patrick’s name is the mantra on the tip of Pete’s own tongue as he comes, and Patrick keeps his words, swallows every bit of it. For a few moments, there’s nothing but perfect bliss, a starry firmament behind Pete’s closed eyes, his body basking in the golden warmth of the afterglow. He thinks Patrick might be talking, might be saying something that sounds soft and sweet like a comfortable blanket draped over him, followed by Patrick drawing Pete into his arms, the physical equivalent of Patrick’s sweet words. Pete sighs happily, and for a while, he just drifts, the voices and worries in his head quiet for once, and Patrick’s words are replaced with tender kisses to Pete’s neck.

“Mmm, I love you so much,” Patrick mumbles in between kisses, and Pete mumbles an _I love you_ back as he stretches his limbs, lets out a satisfied sigh.

After a while, Patrick sits up, shrugs off his shirt and boxers. “Roll over to your stomach,” he instructs, and Pete does as told, curious what will come next. Patrick straddles his hips, traces his hands from the small of Pete’s back up to his shoulders, leans in to whisper: “Did you hear what I was saying earlier?”

“Not all of it,” Pete admits in a small voice, suddenly a little anxious.

“Guess I’ll have to say it again, hm?” Patrick just chuckles, leans in to tug at Pete’s earlobe with his teeth. “Your cock always fills my mouth so perfectly. And you taste so amazing...”

As Patrick goes on, Pete feels himself blushing, heat spreading over his face and down his body. Not even really because Patrick’s words are all that filthy, but because he says them with such honesty, such adoration, such care, his love seeping even into the dirty little compliments. Combined with the kisses Patrick trails from Pete’s neck down his back, it makes Pete shiver with anticipation, Patrick’s lips and hands burning hot on his sweaty skin.

Pete could get lost in this moment forever, were it not for Patrick’s voice bringing him back to reality. “Who’s my good boy?” Patrick whispers.

“ _I’m_ your good boy,” Pete whispers back, strangely proud as he says it. The simple trick of self-affirmation still works.

Although Pete can’t see him, he can hear the smile in Patrick’s voice as he says: “That’s right, baby. Now, tell me what you want…”

There is only one answer Pete can think of. “You. I want _you_.”

“I’m yours already,” Patrick says with a soft chuckle.

“You’re mine,” Pete repeats, more to himself than to Patrick, enjoying how the words taste on his tongue.

“All yours,” Patrick says once more, the shadow of his smile still audible in his voice. “What do you want me to _do_ , Pete?”

Patiently, Patrick waits for Pete’s answer – he doesn’t have to wait long, though. Pete knows what he wants: “Fuck me. Slow and deep and good...”

Patrick chuckles, this time, low and rough. “Don’t worry, I’ll do exactly that...”

Pete isn’t fully hard again, but the anticipation is buzzing through him already, and he longs to feel how Patrick spreads him open, slides into him, fills him up and fucks him until Pete comes all over again.

Patrick kisses the small of his back, the swell of Pete’s ass, tongue trailing to his cleft. “Your ass is so damn perfect,” Patrick purrs as his hands trail over Pete’s butt, down to his thighs, gently motioning to part his legs a little. He only takes his hands off Pete to sit back and reach for the lube.

Pete gets on all fours as Patrick slicks up his fingers. He shivers when Patrick’s fingers trace over his hole, the lube on them cold to the touch; Pete makes a mental note that they definitely need to buy that fancy lube dispenser, then, he turns his attention back to pleasure. Pete loves the initial burn, the stretch, the intimacy as Patrick’s fingers breach the boundaries of his body. Patrick works in one, two, then three digits, and then they find Pete’s prostate – fuck, Patrick is always so damn good with his hands, and he knows Pete’s body better than any instrument he plays. For a while, Pete just enjoys it, strokes himself back into full hardness as he pushes back against Patrick’s fingers, making sure to moan loudly enough that it’ll bring a grin to Patrick’s face.

Then, Patrick stops, motions Pete to lay on his back again. Pete turns around, takes a moment to stretch his limbs, and to take in the sight of his gloriously naked husband. Blond hair disheveled, a blush spreading over his face, his baby blue eyes looking only at Pete. Patrick’s dick, blood red and hard, is curved against the soft swell of his stomach, a delicious contrast to his pale skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Patrick whispers as Pete spreads his legs a little wider, eager to proceed. “So, so fucking beautiful...”

Pete opens his mouth to return the compliment, but finds he can only moan quietly as Patrick lines up with his stretched, slick hole, then slowly pushes in. Pete holds his breath as Patrick bottoms out; nothing in the world matters, all that exists in these few precious moments is the delicious burn as Patrick’s cock fills him up.

As Patrick waits for him to adjust, he takes Pete’s hands, kisses each knuckle, his fingers, palms, wrists, lips lingering to feel Pete’s pulse. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispers against Pete’s skin, and he leans into the touch with a quiet sigh when Pete cups his face with his hand. It’s rare to see Patrick so lost in the moment, he’s usually the one to keep calm and collected, but it only makes Pete’s heart beat faster.

“I love you too,” Pete whispers back, which makes Patrick smile his most precious smile, before he lets go of Pete’s wrists, and leans in for a kiss, first to Pete’s trembling lips, then to kiss away a stray tear running down Pete’s cheek.

Neither of them will last long, Pete knows as Patrick carefully starts to move, they never last long when it’s this intense. Patrick, determined to keep his promise, is still mumbling compliments in between kisses, speaks of love and joy and beauty, whispered words that make Pete moan, make him shiver, make his chest ache with how much he fucking loves Patrick. He thinks there might be another tear or two running down his cheeks, kissed away by Patrick before they can fall.

As much as Pete enjoys being tied up, he has to admit that he also quite enjoys his free range of movements today. He gets to run his hands over Patrick’s soft skin, and when Patrick’s dick hits his prostate, Pete gets to dig his fingers into Patrick’s hips, hard enough to leave his own marks (not that it takes much – Patrick bruises oh so easily).

Then, Patrick slides his hand down to Pete’s dick, matches the pace of his strokes to the rhythm of his hips. “Come for me, Pete,” he groan’s into Pete’s ear, and fuck it, Pete doesn’t have to be told twice. His orgasm hits hard, it’s intense and delightful and everything Pete could have wished for, the perfect culmination of love and pleasure set to the soundtrack of Patrick’s sweet moans he he too comes, buried deep inside of Pete.

For a while, neither of them speaks or moves; Patrick just gently strokes over Pete’s cheek, wiping away another tear. Pete leans into the tender touch, just like Patrick did before, closes his eyes and sighs happily.

“I really love you so, so much,” Patrick stutters, and he sounds wrecked, like he’s close to crying as well. “Do I – do I tell you that enough...?”

“I think you just did,” Pete manages to answer, and with that, Patrick regains enough of his composure to lean in for a kiss as he slowly pulls out.

Patrick sits up, runs a hand through his messy hair, takes a deep breath. “Pete… Can you count for me, baby? I’ll get a bath ready.”

Pete wants to protest, he wants to lie here with Patrick forever, but he also wants to follow Patrick’s instructions, and that bath sounds like a great idea. So, he waits as Patrick disappears into the bathroom, counts his heartbeat until Patrick gets back, takes his hand to take him to the promised bathtub.

Once they’ve settled into the warm water, Pete cuddles up to his husband, and closes his eyes again, enjoying the body contact as well as the bath. Silence surrounds them, the only things Pete can hear is Patrick’s breath and the lapping of the water.

“You good?” Patrick asks after a while, sounding a little anxious.

Pete, eyes still closed, makes a vague noise of approval, which doesn’t seem to soothe Patrick’s worries.

“Next time, I’ll just handcuff you to the bed and ride your dick,” Patrick says, somewhat nervously and with a hint of self-deprecation. “Sorry if I got too sentimental, sorry if this wasn’t all that perfect…”

“Don’t apologize. I really enjoyed it.” Pete yawns a little, then opens his eyes and turns his head to look at Patrick. “I mean, I’d enjoy you handcuffing me and riding my dick, too, but – that’s not the point. I liked this. It was weird at first, to just accept your love and affections without doing anything special, but… It felt good, y’know.”

“You’ve done so much already, Pete. All your love and care. We’ve had the band and the music and we have our family, our friends, our careers… And you’re doing something special everyday for me already, just by being you. I wanted to do this simply because I love you.”

“So I’ve heard,” Pete says with a grin, and Patrick blushes, but doesn’t banter with him. Comfortable silence settles between them once more, and Patrick pulls Pete a little closer, clings to him like Pete might slip away. Pete lets him, enjoying the closeness, and enjoying as Patrick absent-mindedly traces over the ink under his skin, humming to himself as he does so.

Pete yawns again, his thoughts turning towards something else. “Hey. We totally need to buy that fancy lube dispenser. You know, the one that preheats the lube?”

Instead of answering, Patrick laughs softly, pecks a kiss to Pete’s temple.

“I’m serious!” Pete says, and he is, kind of. Well, mostly. “It would feel much nicer, and also, it’s way more convenient, y’know.”

“Duly noted, my love.” Although Patrick tries to sound sarcastic, Pete is sure he’ll convince his husband – maybe not today, but definitely soon. Then, Patrick lets go of him, reaches for the fancy little hotel soaps to wash Pete’s hair. When he’s done, Pete returns the favor, and although he could sit in a bathtub with his husband forever, said husband points out that the water is getting cold, and that the bed is a better place to sleep.

All cleaned and huddled up under the soft blankets, Pete takes a moment to check his phone – the kids are alright, his mom got a cute snapshot of the kids helping her with dinner and the kids having fallen asleep on the couch together, and Pete sends her a quick reply that they’re doing fine as well. With a quick glance to Patrick, Pete also makes sure to bookmark the website for the lube dispenser, before putting his phone away for the night. As Pete cuddles up to his husband again, he feels tired, sleep ready to claim him, winning over his insomnia today.

“I love you,” Pete whispers into Patrick’s ear, “won’t ever grow tired of saying that.”

“Me neither,” Patrick whispers back sleepily, “I love you, too.”

Pete smiles to himself, rests his head on Patrick’s chest; he can feel it rise and fall as Patrick breathes, he can hear Patrick’s heartbeat, a symphony he will never grow tired of listening to. Sated and happy and excited for what tomorrow (and every other precious day spent together) will have in store for them, Pete finally falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, everyone!~  
> It was fun to write, and I doubt this will be the last we see of them. 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, and make sure to check out all the other awesome fics from the challenge! ;)


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